


(For Your Sake) I Hope Heaven and Hell are Really There

by banafofool



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon character deaths, Hale fire, Happy Ending, M/M, Werefox Stiles, Werewolf Derek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-28
Updated: 2014-12-16
Packaged: 2018-02-27 04:26:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2679104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/banafofool/pseuds/banafofool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Claudia Stilinski was one of the last of her kind. One of the foxes; the cunning tricksters that have outsmarted nearly every other nightmare from the beginning of time. Unfortuantely, they although they could outsmart, they could not outrun them, thus giving Claudia her status as one of the last, however not the very last. Her boy, Stiles as he liked to be called now, was one of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I feel that I should warn everyone, you meet the Hales in this but the fire still happens. Not all of them die, but still, unhappiness.

Claudia Stilinski was one of the last of her kind. One of the foxes; the cunning tricksters that have outsmarted nearly every other nightmare from the beginning of time. Unfortuantely, they although they could outsmart, they could not outrun them, thus giving Claudia her status as one of the last, however not the very last. Her boy, Stiles as he liked to be called now, was one of them. 

She had seen the orange spark in his eyes seconds after he was born, heard him whine for her. He was a fox, just like his mother, with the pure humanity of his father. He wouldn't be able to shift for years- until then, he would have to learn.

It was tradition that the foxes be trained to use their intelligence and agility at an early age- Claudia began training her little boy the day he began showing the signs; trouble concentrating, too much energy, simple wit that leaves a burn on the victim of that sharp tongue. Stiles was an early bloomer, showing the characteristics of his fox at the mere age of eight. 

Both of his parents felt a fierce pride for the boy with fox eyes and a human heart. 

Claudia would spend hours everyday, bringing her little boy into the woods, letting him run and play in the trees. He would scream and play, shooting and hunting imaginary monsters, his superhero shirt of the day somehow always getting ripped. He would return to his mother with a spark in his eyes, faintly glowing orange as he smeared the mud deeper into his skin when he tried to rub it off. Naturally he came with a big grin, his face still childlike, unmarred from the harsh truths of the world around him. Claudia let pride flare lightly in her chest that she had saved him from the worst of the world.

Claudia told him everything she could, telling him the secrets of their kind. "You see, Stiles, we are like the wolves that howl at the moon. Only, we are not controlled by such little things; we have no moon, no pack to guide us. We are smart, and fierce creatures; do not let a wolf ever bully you into thinking otherwise. Never trust the wolves. In fact, there is only one pack that you could ever trust; the Hales. Do you remember them?" 

Stiles had looked up to his mother, a dimpled smile coloring his features as he said proudly, "I remember, Momma!" Claudia had laughed lightly at his easy cheer. He had giggled along, thinking nothing of the words his mother told him. He still listened though, absorbing every sentence like it was his nature to absorb the knowledge in the air around him. 

Claudia had continued on, this time grabbing Stiles' face to turn it towards hers, both of them staring into the light blurring oranges coloring their eyes. "And Stiles- our kind- we have been hunted, much like the wolves. There are people, humans, who fear what we are capable of. Never trust a hunter, and never let yourself become the monster they paint us to be." 

Stiles had drifted off, vaguely watching the changing hues in his mother's eyes. But he had perked up, asking quietly, "But not all humans are bad, right momma? Daddy's human and he doesn't seem too bad." Claudia had laughed, telling her little boy that his father was probably the best human. 

Months later, almost halfway through the training, there was a threat that even Claudia could not outsmart. Pineoblastoma. A cancer in the center of her brain, eating up all her intelligence, all the cunning wit that had been the base of her species for centuries. Unreachable through surgery, Claudia Stilinski had been told to make her self comfortable at home. And wait. 

Stiles and his father were forced to wait too, watching Claudia fade into nothing that she ever was before. 

Stiles' face is no longer unmarred from the harsh truths of the world. 

. . . . 

The day of the funeral, Stiles doesn't speak, and neither does his father. All they do is silently hold hands, John Stilinski ignoring the small claws poking into his fist, ignores the orange coloring behind Stiles' eyes. Claudia had never been able to teach control; Stiles would have to see the Hale pack to learn.

Stiles is stuffed into his nicest (only) suit, his hair out of his face. His face is stained with silent tears that match those on his father's face. Weeks pass, almost no words coming from Stiles at all. Every emotion is held tightly in his chest, unable to spill out. 

Eventually though the Sheriff tells Stiles about the Hales training him, and that's when Stiles finally lets out a horrible sob at the words. It wracks his entire body as the tears begin to fall from his eyes, his mouth open as he feels the agony of loss roll through his body. Wail after wail leaves his throat, clogging up the air with only the sound of pain as his father falls to his knees, pulling his son in. They sit there, in the middle of their kitchen, like that for what must be an hour, crying on each other, needing the closeness. 

Hours later, they're quiet on the way to the Hale house, no words spoken the entire ride. Stiles sits in the passenger seat of his mother's old baby blue jeep- choosing to ignore the still familiar smell of his mother in the car in favor of watching the trees go by as they drive. He watches the red and orange leaves merge into a fiery color, wondering if that's what his eyes might look like to strangers if he shifts. He silently wonders why they must go to the Hales- they are wolves after all.

Stiles can hear the family as soon as his mother's jeep begins the mile long hike into the forest on a dirt path. He can hear feet moving outside, can hear the normal sounds of a family; happiness and simplicity. Tears threaten to fall again, and Stiles wracks his mind for another thought, pleading with himself not to cry now. The drive feels much longer than it should, Stiles, at the small age of eight, feeling anxiety building in his chest at the thought of _wolves_ teaching him. 

 _Never trust the wolves. Except the Hales_ , Stiles thinks bitterly. They finally reached the end of the forest path inward, having passed enough trees and brush for Stiles to believe that there was no way they could get a tv signal out here. 

All thoughts are pushed from his mind when he sees the apparent welcome committee; a powerful looking women with red eyes stands in between two fully shifted werewolves, paws and all. What must be ten others stands behind them, the men shirtless and the women staring at the approaching car. A house sits behind them, huge and rather welcoming. Stiles gulps though when the car comes to a stop, his father looking just as nervous as Stiles feels. 

"Come on, we better just deal with it. I don't see the need for the dramatic effect though." The sheriff executes his thoughts by pulling Stiles closer to him, lifting him up and into his arms as he gets out of the jeep. The door slamming breaks the silence, forcing a flinch out of Stiles. The wolves remain still. 

The sheriff begins the walk towards the wolves, and a memory resurfaces in Stiles' mind. _Do not let a wolf ever bully you._ Stiles squirms in his fathers arms, pushing at their strength until he's clumsily dropped to the ground. He forces himself to walk with a straight back and neutral face as he gets closer to the pack. He decides to do something for his mother, stand his ground as he literally throws himself to the wolves. 

They finally reach the pack, the two of them standing, appearing calm and collected in front of the wolves. The woman in the middle, the one with dark hair and even darker eyes, flashes her pupils red, a smirk on her face as she looks down at the brave little fox. She bends down onto one knee, grabbing Stiles' hand. Stiles can't help but notice how warm she is, how much she reminds him of his own mother. The women smiles, seemingly understanding as she looks the fox over. 

"Hi Stiles. My name's Talia Hale. I'm the leader of this pack. And I'm sure a smart fox like you is probably wondering why you're here. Do you want to talk first, or meet the pack first?" Talia's voice is strong and smooth, somehow soothing the anxiousness still present in Stiles' chest. Stiles thinks it over, looking at the wolves surrounding them now. He nods towards the wolves, and Talia smiles as she introduces her pack, going down the line. 

The wolves next to her are her husband, Theo, and her brother, Peter. From then on it's a blur, Stiles only managing to pay attention through _Laura, Derek, Cora...._ By the times they're finished it's nearly dusk, the sky around the house looking warm as purple and orange meet in a smooth static of color. Stiles had sat down long ago, fingers restlessly fitting throughout the array of grass stems poking up from the ground. 

When the smooth voice had stopped, Stiles looked up, noticing that some of the wolves were milling around, play fighting or talking and laughing quietly to themselves in the yard. Talia was sitting down across from Stiles, her own fingers carelessly playing in the grass as she looked at Stiles with a small, sad smile. Stiles' dad was off, talking to Peter and Theo. They looked like friends. 

"They are friends." Talia interrupted Stiles' thoughts, seemingly reading them. "I was friends with your mother, Stiles. Very good friends actually. Which is why she left you to me for your training. I can teach you everything she told me about the foxes- and I will also teach you about the wolves. If you want, that is." 

The last sentence probably should have been a question, but Stiles knew that Talia knew the answer already. He had no where else to go. So he nodded silently, letting the Alpha gently pull his head up to meet her eyes. "You are brave enough to be a wolf, little fox. I promise that I'll teach you everything I can. Now, how about some ice cream, and then tomorrow we will start training?"

For the first time in a while, Stiles gives someone a genuine grin.


	2. Chapter 2

Training with the wolves is different than his mother's training. Stiles is alarmed when he arrives at the Hale house, showing up to find Derek with his arms locked around Cora.  

He'd been herded out of the car, simply handed over to the Hales, all of them stoping their fighting at their arrival. Before going though, his father leaned down to whisper in Stiles' ear, "I can't stay with you, buddy. They do their training alone, just like mom. If you need me _at all_ just get Alpha Hale to give me a call, okay? I love you." 

Stiles hadn't taken his eyes off of the wolves, all of them mirroring his look now as they stared back. Stiles nodded to his father, and began a slow trek towards the wolves, knowing that he can't look weak in front of them, can't let them bully him. He vaguely hears the car door slam, signaling his father's departure, and that's when the Alpha had come out of the house, giving Stiles a smile as she easily walked through the grass. 

The other wolves simply stared at him until their mother had shooed them, telling them to get back to training. "Stiles. Happy to see you. Alright, I figured that today we would start with introducing you to our training- it's probably more physical than what you're used to, but I think you'll catch on quickly." 

There are five kids that train with Stiles, the five youngest. The oldest of the group is Derek. He's a scrawny twelve year old, but he acts like he's the best just because he's the oldest one still training. Stiles doesn't think that's fair. But he digresses.

The actual oldest, Laura, has been done with her training for years, now learning how to be an alpha. The others are Cora, Sophie, Abbey, and the youngest, even younger than Stiles, is Aaron. The training is oddly physical, all of them learning how to defend themselves by fighting with each other. 

Stiles is, unsurprisingly, the weakest of them, foxes never having developed as much physical power. He's sent off to fight with Aaron, someone a year younger than him. Stiles can see each attack coming from a mile away- he can see the slight hesitance towards the left side, the faint step forward as the boy in front of him decides where he'll go next. Stiles never hit back, only blocking and moving away from every move. 

Talia watches on from the nearby, and eventually tells them to break apart, Aaron sweating and slow, Stiles fresh and feeling slightly more awake than when he arrived. Talia smiles at Stiles, patting Aaron on the head as he playfully sends Stiles a death glare. Stiles is then moved up, over to Abbey. She's much faster than Aaron, and much more vicious, but Stiles evades every attack, only tripping up once when she had darted forward to tickle him. Stiles considers it a foul, but he leans back, catching her and tickling her back until their on the ground, giggling to each other. 

Talia laughed from her spot watching them, pulling them apart. "This is very serious training, kiddos." She admonishes them, but the effect is ruined by her own gigantic grin. Stiles is herded through each pairing, sparring with each of the kids until he's brought up to Derek. Derek looks offended by Stiles' presence, but Stiles just smirks, already feeling as if he belongs.

Derek is faster than all the others, but he still relies too heavily on brute force. Stiles decides that this is the chance to fight back, but in his own passive aggressive way- when Derek darts forward, Stiles pushes his foot out, tripping Derek to the ground. Derek lands on his back, already ready to flip back to standing, but Stiles tackles him, falling on top with a laugh. Derek doesn't laugh though, in fact, he's scowling at the little fox. But Stiles can hear the other wolves all chuckling to themselves, many of the older ones watching from the porch. 

Stiles laughs at Derek's unhappiness and sitting astride him, he lets his fingers dance over Derek's torso. He nearly falls off with the force of Derek's laugh when he finds where Derek's ticklish, mercilessly digging his fingers into that spot until Derek has to lift Stiles off, pushing him to the side and this time being the one to straddle Stiles. Stiles lets out a laugh of happiness as he's tickled. Talia pulls Derek up, smiling at the two of them. 

"Well, Stiles, I can't say that I've ever seen someone go with the tactic of tripping the opponent, although the tickling is unfortunately a common thing for us." Talia leans down and pulls Stiles to his feet too, brushing him off just as she did Derek. "Alright. That was good for the first half. Let's go eat some lunch and then we can start with some things that your mother told me about." 

Stiles feels a pang when he realizes that he hadn't even been thinking of his mother, hadn't even been remembering that she'd died and that was why he was here. Someone off to his side whines slightly, and Stiles looks up in time to see Derek lumber over to him, leaning down to rub his face to Stiles' neck. Stiles freezes, shocked at the sudden attack on his neck. Derek pulls back, saying quietly, "We can feel it when you're sad. You're part of the pack now, Stiles. It'll be okay." 

Stiles is oddly comforted by the thought, but quickly asks, "Can my dad be pack too?" Derek smiles, laughing a little as he replies, "Yeah, I guess he can. I think him and Uncle Peter are friends." Stiles gives him a childish grin, and they walk towards the house together. 

"So you're not mad at me for tripping you?" Stiles asks, suddenly worried that he did something wrong. Derek laughs though, looking down at Stiles with kindness in his eyes as he replies, "No, it's fine, it's actually good. Just never do it again."

They've been friends ever since. 

. . .

Four years later, Stiles has hit the interesting age of twelve with Derek has hit sixteen. They spend nearly everyday together, both of them seeing each other at school where Stiles had been moved up a few grades. Being half fox has it's advantages, and now he can see Derek everyday. He also gets to ride to school with Derek everyday, thanks to Laura passing down the Camaro. Stiles was unashamedly more giddy than Derek, practically vibrating with excitement when the car came out.

Derek couldn't resist giving Stiles a ride everyday.   

Today had been like most, Derek driving a couple miles out of his way in order to pick up Stiles, Cora complaining about it but secretly over joyed to be spending time with the pack's fox. The day had been overly boring, Stiles not paying attention as usual. They met up at lunch, Derek pretending to read while Stiles and Cora threw Cheetos at him. 

"Derek, entertain me, I'm bored," Stiles whines, drawing out the "o" in bored. Derek smirks into his book, opting to ignore the pesky fox just a little longer. "Cora make him do something." 

Derek feels his face drop at this, knowing- Cora leap across the table, pushing the book out of his hands and shoving Cheetos down his shirt. 

A school day like any other. 

. . . 

Derek drives them back to the Hale house as usual, Stiles coming over for more training. These days it's mostly just Stiles and Cora fighting it out while Derek shouts abuse at them from the porch.Today though, they're teaching Stiles how to cover his tracks in the woods. 

"So you're going to shift and run. I'll chase you and Cora's not coming on this round 'cause she's got homework or something. Cool?" Derek asks, looking at Stiles with the legendary Hale eyebrows raised. Stiles nods, bracing himself for the pain of shifting skin and bones. 

Derek must notice his screwed up face braced for pain and he says to Stiles clearly, "just relax. Seriously, if you think it'll be bad, then it will." Stiles nods again, letting out a deep breath in an attempt to relax. The shift from human to fox is easier this way, but still leaves a dull ache in his bones. He shakes his head once he's shifted, the enhanced sense disorienting for a minute. 

He can see every color imaginable, the magic of his kind letting him _see_ everything; he can see the thrumming heartbeat in Derek's neck as he forces his own shift into wolf, can see the arching rays of the sun in the sky and the fading leaves of the forest around them. Smells assault his nose, the wildlife of the woods around them becoming even more prevalent. If he listens closely, Stiles can hear his father inside laughing at something one of the Hales said. 

He's drawn away from his thoughts when Derek butts his head gently into Stiles' smaller form. He gestures towards the woods, and Stiles nods, taking off in a random direction. He can hear Derek take off behind him after a good minute, and Stiles would smirk if he could. He was always good at outsmarting the wolves. He darts in and out of different paths, crashing through creeks and eventually sprinting into an open field. He darts down into a burrow, coming out the other side and continuing his run. 

He thinks that this is it, he must've done it this time, when Derek barrels into him from the side. Stiles shifts mid-tumble, used to the general nudity of wolves, groaning as he lands with a human Derek on top of him. 

"Ugh you could have just barked or something to tell me you found me. Jesus, Der I think I just spit up half my lung from that hit." Derek just smiles down at the fox, knowing that he's complaining for show. They walk side by side back to the house, shoving and pushing each other playfully along the way. "You almost lost me at the burrow, but I figured you'd just keep running straight. Predictable." Derek shakes his head as he talks, laughing at the shocked look on Stiles' face. 

They shift when they get close, Stiles not wanting to harm his father's eyes with his own nudity upon arriving. They shift back at each of their pile of clothes, getting dressed quickly and following the voices inside of the house. They eat dinner together, the pack happy and cheerful as they talk about their days.

Stiles looks at his pack, his family, and knows that the only thing he would change is adding his mother into the picture. Derek lays a hand on his wrist lightly, bringing Stiles back, and Stiles smiles sadly at him. Derek nods, understanding.  


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter has the fire in it, so if you don't want to read that I would recommend skipping it. It's not gory or anything, but ya know, just in case.

Another four years pass, Stiles growing into his own skin as he becomes a teen, finally old enough to drive the ancient jeep he's been waiting eight years for. Over the years he and Derek had been inseparable, really only brought apart when Derek had to go away to college. But Stiles had made friends in school, all of them seniors like him, but all also older. 

Scott had been Stiles' best friend for the two years that Derek had been gone so far, but he had never known Stiles' secret. Neither had his other friends, Erica, Isaac, and Boyd. No one really knew except for the Hales' and his father, Stiles choosing to keep himself safe rather than explain why his eyes are sometimes orange or why he's constantly at the Hales' still even though Derek's gone. 

Sometimes Stiles is glad that Scott is becoming too distracted by his girlfriend to ask too many questions. 

But he's finally sixteen, finally old enough for that damn car, but the most important thing happening is Derek. Derek is coming back from college for his birthday, coming straight to the Stilinski house to pick Stiles up. He's actually coming about two weeks late, but they agreed that the pack could all celebrate late if Derek was bale to come home.

So Stiles had been waiting all day, all those two weeks really, buzzing with visible happiness and excitement for seeing Derek again. They'd been skyping the entirety of Derek's first two years in college, but nothing can beat seeing his best friend in person. 

And when Derek gets out of the car and comes to the door, Stiles realizes that really, _nothing_ can beat seeing his best friend. Derek's definitely grown up- his chest broader with his shoulders, stubble adorning his high cheek bones, muscles layering every part of him. Stiles would feel more ashamed if he hadn't noticed the faint blush on Derek's cheeks once Stiles met his eyes. 

They're both blushing as they hug, absentmindedly rubbing each of their own faces into the crook of the other's neck, fixing the foreign scent clinging to them both. Stiles smiles when he pulls away, watching the bunny teeth come out as Derek smiles back. 

They'd gone to the Hale house, everyone wishing Stiles a happy birthday over a cake Talia had made. Almost enough to feed an army, the cake was soon devoured and Stiles sat happily on the couch with Derek and Cora, the tv on a random channel in front of them. 

Derek walks Stiles to his car later, driving him home from the pack. Stiles is about to get out of the car when Derek leans over the consul, pulling Stiles in towards him. Stiles is excited, finally thinking that Derek may make a move-

Derek brushes something off of Stiles' cheek, whispering happy birthday to him one last time. Stiles feels his mouth fall open, gaping in shock. 

"No. That's bullshit-" At Derek's startled look, Stiles leans forward this time, pulling Derek's face closer to his. "I'm going to kiss you now, you idiot. Is that okay?" 

Derek's eyebrows are so far up his forehead that they may take flight, but he nods eagerly, eyes locked on Stiles' lips. Stiles leans forward, gently brushing his own lips against Derek's, sending a shockwave of sensation through them both. Derek makes a small whine in the back of his throat and Stiles can't help but push harder at that, turning the kiss into something more desperate. Derek reaches up, his hands cradling Stiles' face, tilting his head just how he wants it. Stiles lets out a whine of his own when Derek trails the kisses from his mouth to his chin, and then down his neck. 

Stiles lets out a shaky gasp of Derek's name when he feels Derek leave a gigantic hickey on his neck, sucking hard enough on Stiles' skin that it forces his eyes back in his head. Derek pulls back, his eyes glazed and mouth parted with swollen kiss-bitten lips. Stiles would smirk but he's sure that he looks the same.

 "So... That just happened. Uh, can you say something?" Stiles can feel the beginning of a nervous ramble coming on but he's hoping that Derek will say something. But Derek just stares at him, his eyes darting from Stiles' lips to his eyes and back again. 

"I've kind of had a crush on you since that day I tripped you. That's kind of embarrassing to finally say out loud. Wow. Uh. Der please just say something-"

"I like you too. I mean I was literally head over heels for you when you tripped me, what eight years ago? I feel the same, Stiles." Derek sounds like he's on the edge of a cliff that he's afraid of going over on. But Stiles can see the nervous fiddling of Derek's fingers, can see the faint blush coloring Derek's cheeks and ears. But Stiles can't think of anything to say- the words are there, they're just not coming out the right way. So he leans back across the consul, pulling Derek into a gentler, sweeter kiss than the one they shared before. 

This time when he pulls back, they're both less dazed, but the blushes remain high on their cheeks. "I'll come by tomorrow, okay?" Stiles whispers, the grin on his face refusing to falter. Derek smiles back and nods before pecking Stiles on the cheek one last time. 

Stiles only stumbles twice on his way up to his front door, but Derek laughs at him almost the whole way. 

And that night, if Stiles jerks off with his fingers pressed against the hickey on his neck? Just like any other. 

. . . . 

The next day Stiles feebly tries to see if he can cover the hickey. No such luck, and he's eighty percent sure that the wolves would be able to tell anyway, with their super-wolfy senses. Shaking his head at himself, Stiles heads downstairs, grabbing a granola bar on his way out.

Stiles gets out to his car, getting in the Jeep and heading to the house. The drive is short, Stiles barely paying attention as the path to the pack is almost instinct by now. 

It's when he gets to the base of the path that acts as the driveway that he smiles, hearing the laughing and happy cries of his pack. He speeds up a little, eager to see everyone despite having seen them last night. It was the first time in months that everyone was all together, both Derek and Laura back from college for a visit. 

The car careens into its normal spot, uneven on the muddy ground, and Stiles gets out and straight into a suffocating hug from Laura. 

"Ah, I missed you little fox! God, how have you been?" Laura pulls back, her gigantic grin matching the one on Stiles'. Her eyes bug out though when she sees Stiles' neck. She gapes, looking from Stiles back to where Derek is standing on the porch, probably blushing just as hard as Stiles. "Wooow. Jesus, finally, but how did you get it to stay?" She smirks at Stiles' lowered gaze, the blush the only thing visible. 

Stiles coughs, forcing his eyes up. "Alright, alright, if we're done ogling here, I'm gonna go give one to your brother. And I finally learned how to control the healing thing, so, yeah. Hickeys all around." Laura grimaces and Stiles laughs as he walks towards the porch, the sun highlighting everything in vivid outlines. 

Derek's standing on the porch, eyes trained on Stiles' approaching form. He walks down the stars, meeting Stiles at the bottom. "I was thinking maybe we could run in the woods? For old times sake? You can show me if you've actually gotten better at covering your tracks." Derek smirks at Stiles, while Stiles pouts but nods his head. 

They push and shove at each other as the walk towards the back, Stiles staring this time as Derek strips out of his clothes while they walk. He'd feel bad, but Stiles can feel Derek's eyes on him when he takes off his own clothes. They nod to each other but Stiles hesitates, watching Derek shift. It goes easier than ever before, Derek fully grown into himself. The shifting of muscles and skin is smooth and easy, unlike Stiles who still braces for the pain sometimes. But he remembers what Derek said so long ago, and he breathes out, forcing himself to relax as he changes shape.  

Immediately Stiles takes off towards the woods, forcing himself into a sprint , weaving in and out of the trees as he goes. He can hear the huff behind him, knows that Derek would be chuckling at him if he could. But he keeps going, picking the most complicated path he can think up. He darts left and right, diving into a creek and letting it drag him downstream before running towards a clearing ahead. 

He hears a crash in the woods behind him and a surge of fear runs though him; Derek wouldn't be able to catch up that quickly. He spares a glance back, seeing a tall man with a bow in his hands. He lets out a warning yelp, hoping that Derek is nearby to hear. It's too late though, even as Stile continues to run he feels the man catching up to him-

Stiles lets out a pained bark when he feels himself being grabbed viciously and ripped from the ground and into the air by the scruff of his neck. He squirms, fighting his captor, attempting to dig a claw deep in one of his arms. He nips at the air, biting at nothing as he struggles to get away. 

The man curses, smacking Stiles over the head with his free hand. The bow is on the ground across from them, and Stiles considers shifting to get away but he can feel the panic building, can feel his body beginning to shake with adrenaline- he has to get away, this man is a hunter-

Derek crashes into them, barreling straight into the back of the man and pushing both of them to the ground. Stiles lets out a loud bark from the ground, biting mercilessly at the mans hand that had once been holding him. Derek snarls at the man, shifting back to human on top of him. He hits him twice, the man now unconscious. 

"Stiles! Are you okay?" HIs voice full of worry, Derek searches frantically for Stiles on the ground. Stiles barks at him though, warning him to stay away; he can smell wolfsbane all over the man. Stiles forces the shift, groaning as he rises to full height. 

"Derek! Get back! He's a hunter. He- he's got wolfsbane all over. We need to-" Stiles is interrupted by a faint howl in the distance. Derek's face fills with horror and they shift back, Stiles unfocused on the pain as he shifts. They run faster than Stiles has ever seen, ever run before. The forest is a blur as they run, adrenaline forcing them to be unaware, only focused on where they're running to. 

Stiles stumbles to a stop, shifting back to human in mid air as he rolls on the ground in front of the house. Fire licks at the sky, smoke billowing into the atmosphere, screams filling the surrounding air. He doesn't think, just runs after a human Derek and into the house, bracing the flames as he searches for the source of the scream. 

The entire downstairs is filled with smoke, Stiles choking on it, eyes watering as he frantically searches the room. He can't see two feet in front of his face, can barely hear anything over the roar of the flames. 

Suddenly Derek comes sprinting from the heart of the flames, Abbey in his arms. She's coughing and screaming as she points behind her, and Stiles follows her finger. He can feel his skin blistering and healing simultaneously as he braces the flames, dropping to the ground where he hears Sophie letting out a pained yell. 

He heads for where he came in, all of it blurring into nothing as the adrenaline consumes him. He gets outside, the fresher air hitting him like a smack to the face as he collapses on the grass, gulping down the clean air. Sophie clings to him, crying into his shoulder as she slowly heals. 

"Stiles! Watch the little ones, stay out here. I'm going back in to see if anyone else is there." Derek's dad yells orders to Stiles, Stiles struggling to comprehend them when his brain moves a little slower. But he nods, watching as Theo disappears into the smoke filled house. 

Derek appears at Stiles' side, making a grab for the still clingy Sophie. "Der- what... how"

Derek lets out a whine, his face covered in ash and soot as he shakes his head, not knowing either. They pull Abbey and Sophie over to where Aaron is sitting near the tree line. Peter coughs his way out of the house, dragging a seemingly passed out Laura behind him. 

Peter walks over, his eyes lost and unfocused, helping Laura to walk. "That's it. They're- They're gone." 

Derek lets out an anguished wail as Stiles feels his stomach drop; some of his pack has died. The Alpha. Derek cries out, trying to get passed Peter and into the house, but Peter grabs his arm, pulling him in. "They're gone, Derek! There's nothing more we can do." 

Derek whines, one that matches the whines and cries of the people around him. Stiles falls to the ground, his head in his hands. Derek looks up to Peter, asking, "How?"

Peter looks half dead when he snarls the word hunters. 


	4. Chapter 4

Half the pack is dead, but Stiles is already planning, every gear in his brain in motion. Plans fly through his mind, but standing there, in a yard where he'd trained for years with laughter and happiness, it feels as though those plans won't mean shit. 

Walking over to where Peter is sitting with his head in his hands, Stiles forces his voice to be firm, forces it to sound like he knows what he can do for the situation. "Everybody get up. There's another hunter in the woods that Derek knocked out- _don't_ kill him yet. We'll need him to find the others. And Cora wasn't home- she was supposed to be at a friends. We need to find her. Now." 

Peter snarls at him but Stiles doesn't back down. He strangles his own feelings down until they're just brimming behind his chest, waiting to come out. Laura perks up at his words about the hunter, looking at the woods with newly red eyes. 

Before Stiles can say anything, she's off, sprinting into the woods, a blur of motion between the trees. He turns back to everyone else, watching the fire take down the rest of the house. He feels his own eyes flare at the image, his thin claws drawing blood from his palm where his fists are clenched tight. 

Derek appears at his side, gently grabbing his bleeding hand and licking off the blood. Stiles' slight surprise must show on his face because Derek just glares, whispering, "It's a wolf thing." His voice is hoarse with pain. 

Peter jerks up from his spot on the ground behind them making Stiles flinch backwards. Derek just follows, holding his hand in a tight, desperate grip. Stiles grips back, trying to ground himself and Derek. 

Peter must've jerked up because of Laura coming back into the yard, an unconscious, bleeding hunter dragging behind her. "He was waking up when I got there. I took the liberty of knocking him out again. Someone take the little ones away from here, me and Peter can handle this. Derek look for Cora." Her voice is already one of an Alpha's.

But that leaves Stiles to be that someone. He picks up Aaron, feeling Abbey and Sophie grip his torn shirt as they walk towards the jeep. Stiles feels more plans forming in his mind, can feel the fox angry and heartbroken and wanting to fix it. He stuffs it down with his feelings for now, locking everyone into the car. 

He starts the car unsure of where to go. They could go to Deaton's, the vet who does questionable things at night. Stiles can't help but think that that environment would just make things worse; cold, immaculate furniture, simple silver table and tools. 

So he brings them to his house that he shares with his father, herding them into the living room. It's when he's cleaning the soot and dried tears off of Aaron's face that one of them finally says something. "You're going to get the hunters, right?" Sophie looks angry as the words fall from her mouth.

Stiles nods wordlessly, feeling his throat close up with unshed tears. He shakes his head, turning on the tv for them. They watch absently, nothing more said between any of them, but they're all linked by the hands. Stiles closes his eyes, forcing his feelings deeper. 

_The next thing to do_ , he tells himself, _focus on the next thing._ He walks into the kitchen, blindly looking for the phone. He calls his dad. 

"Stiles? What-" His dad sounds confused so Stiles interrupts. 

"Something's happened. I can't really tell you, but I need you to come home and make sure that none of the little ones go crazy. Please dad, it's important."

Then he hangs up, going back into the living room and sitting on the couch behind the little ones on the floor. Stiles looks around, realizing how late it is in the day. It's dusk, the sun fading behind scattered clouds, casting as eerie light on the backs of the three in front of him.

But more time passes with blurring edges, and soon enough Stiles' father is there, pulling Stiles into a hug. Stiles doesn't move, couldn't handle that right now. But he pulls back, looking at his father as he scans Stiles' still sooty face. 

"Just please, watch them, make sure no one comes to the house. I have to go." Stiles is already talking before his father has a chance to ask, talking even as he walks towards the door. He faintly hears his fathers faint agreement, but it's enough. 

Stiles practically runs to his car, throwing himself into the drivers seat and making his way back to the Hale's. His heart jumps at that, the image of the burning house still fresh in his brain. He shakes his head, trying to shake out the feelings, and keeps going. He doesn't pay attention to anything, his mind far away as he plans, his body instinctively knowing where to go.

This time when he gets to the driveway there's no laughter, no happiness that filters out of the pathway to the house. Most of it's covered in ash that's been blown this way by the wind. Stiles winces as he drives over it. 

Peter and Laura are sitting on the ground in front of the old shell where the house once was. The hunter is no where to be seen, and Stiles doesn't really want to know what they did. Upon hearing the car, they look up, watching as Stiles carelessly stops the car somewhere, parking in a random part of the yard. 

As he walks over to them, he turns around, seeing Derek come running up the makeshift driveway, panting. If he's panting he must've been running for miles and miles; Stiles feels his heart drop when notices that there's no Cora with him. 

Laura turns his attention back around when she begins to speak, "The other hunter gave us an address. He said that they had Cora and wanted to exchange her for me." 

Derek lets out a frustrated huff, and Stiles feels himself deflate. But ideas still spark in his mind, ways of using this all to his advantage coming to mind. 

"Alright. So let's go. We'll show up, or rather you three will, and cause a distraction while I get Cora. Easy." Stiles is met with three of the legendary Hale glares after he speaks, but he can see Laura considering it, her eyes calculating. 

Thus leading to the plan. Which is why Stiles is currently being dragged down a dark, danky hallway in the middle of nowhere in some warehouse. He can feel his fangs biting into his lips, his orange eyes lighting up the room as he tries to control himself. The hunters are dragging him to where he's hoping they're keeping Cora. He'd been outside, pretending to drunkenly stumble into the door. 

What happened next he feels is obvious. 

The ride is over when he's brought through a doorway, carelessly tossed to the floor. The door bangs shut before he can even get up, the hunters gone back to waiting for the wolves. Stiles pushes himself up, his hands soaked in a puddle covering the ground. 

The room is small and basically all concrete; there's the classic leaky pipe thing going on and Stiles can't help but roll his eyes at the cliche. One thing stands out though; Cora sits, tied to a chair in the corner. She has bruises, all seemingly slowed from healing, blooming across her cheeks and neck. 

He rus to her, shaking her gently and she looks at him wordlessly. "Are you okay? It's gonna be okay- we're helping- they're on their way-"

"They're all dead though." Cora's voice is small and flat, the sound of it making Stiles ache in a way he hasn't in years. He shakes his head. 

"The younger ones made it out. So did Laura, Derek, and Peter. They're prob-" 

Stiles is interrupted by a blood curdling scream from the other side of the door, the sound making him stand on edge. Cora's face darts to his as she hisses out, "Fucking untie me. I'm not going to loose anymore of them- Stiles- fuck- fucking untie me now!" 

Stiles hurries, his fingers clumsily stumbling their way through untying the knots binding her hands. He can smell the wolfsbane, can feel it's very muted effect on him; his fingers itch and burn slightly, but he keeps it up, slowly making it through the first few knots. 

Cora pushes him out of the way when she stands, turning  back once she gets to the door, "Stay here. No one's taught you how to fight properly yet- I'll send Derek when we're done." 

Stiles just nods, mute as he registers the meaning of her words. He feels his stomach churn at the thought- hunters torn apart, left for dead on the cold floor. He walks out of the room anyway, deciding that he has to do everything he can- has to help the only family he has after all these years.

It's as gory as he expects, blood strewn everywhere along with the bodies of the hunters that were living minutes ago. Stiles gags when he sees Derek snarling, slashing his claws through the throat of the hunter who had dragged Stiles in. 

Derek turns, his face shifted halfway, glaring at Stiles, screaming, "Stiles! Behind you!" 

Stiles whips around, in time to dodge a hit thrown by a hunter. She's got blond hair, and she's tall and perfect looking. Stiles is sure that she'd look more perfect if she wasn't trying to kill him. He dodges every throw, every attempt for his throat or heart. He's never been offensive- only the time he tripped Derek. _No way._

Stiles sticks his foot out as she throws her body towards his, tripping the hunter up and down onto the concrete floor. Stiles gapes, momentarily frozen in shock that it worked. The girl seems shocked too, turning with a snarl of her own aimed at Stiles. 

Stiles smirks though, watching as Derek shifts all the way, pouncing on the girl, ending her life. Stiles is sickly satisfied. At least he is until he feels the sharpest pain in his back, his body falling forward as a knife plunges against his spine. 

The last thing he registers is a mournful, enraged howl coming from Derek above him. 


	5. Chapter 5

Stiles drifts in and out. 

He vaguely remembers whining, fur assaulting his senses as it registers that he's shifted. There's a warm being behind him, equally as furry. _Derek_.

He had whined, stretching against the warmth cocooning him, drifting off again to the sound of an answering, animalistic whine. 

. . . .

Voices drag Stiles up again, out of his drifting haze. He recognizes them, can scent his pack surrounding him as they speak in hushed, anxious whispers. He can't open his eyes though, his body too tired, too hazy. 

A whimper leaves his throat, the sound purely animal and small. He hears a heartbeat in the room skip, and a hand immediately begins to softly comb through his fur, the accompanying coo warm and comforting. Stiles tries to smile as he sinks down into unconsciousness again. 

. . . .

The final time that Stiles surfaces from the depths of his mind, he's shifted back to human. Of course he's naked, there's never not an awkward moment after shifting, but he feels someone near him. 

Derek's already talking before Stiles has turned fully to see him. "You were stabbed by a hunter. You shifted, we always heal better shifted. It's been a few days."

Stiles lets out a groan as he listens, his muscles protesting as he stretches his aching body. Derek follows the movements, his eyes wide. 

Stiles clears his throat, talking passed the dryness from disuse, "the pack?...."

Derek grimaces, getting up from his chair beside the bed to sit on the bed with Stiles. Stiles can't help but notice that Derek's naked too, probably recently shifted as well. 

"They went to stay with family in South America. They're not- we're just-"

"I understand. Family needs to be with family, right?" Stiles is saddened at his pack's departure, but he knows, knows deep down that this is what they need. But then something occurs to Stiles, feeling his heart skip a beat. 

"You're not leaving too, are you?!" Stiles doesn't bother to think about the fear that's obvious in his voice. "I mean, I understand just- I thought-"

"I'm not leaving. This- this is my home. Here. With you." Derek says it quietly, his voice raw with emotion. Stiles nods slowly, feeling his heart and mind settle. Derek suddenly looks up, his eyes searching Stiles'. 

"They always do that- when you freak out- your eyes." Stiles grimaces, realizing that his eyes probably changed to their natural bright orange. 

"They're nothing like yours- golden." Stiles says this while he bumps shoulders with Derek, letting a teasing tone bleed into his words. Derek frowns, suddenly taking Stiles' hand into his.

He seems to be choosing his words carefully, the thoughts showing on his face. "I've always  liked yours- bright, easy to find. Always there when I need you." Derek sounds almost wistful, his voice sad and sorrowful. Stiles can't stand it, can't stand the way he sounds vulnerable. 

Stiles squeezes Derek's hand, bringing it up to hold it against his chest. "I can't- they can't be gone, Derek." Stiles' voice teeters off into a mere whimper and Stiles feels the tears well in his eyes, feels his throat closing up in sorrow. Derek whines, sliding his arm around Stiles, pulling them both down onto the bed. 

Derek coos softly in Stiles' ear, even as Stiles feels the warm wetness of tears against the back of his neck. They're spooning- Derek snuggled tightly against Stiles' back,  his arms tightly wound around Stiles' body, Stiles' arms wrapped tightly around those. 

And that's how they lay there- they lay together in the bed, in a foreign place that Stiles doesn't know, crying and holding each other as tightly as possible. No words are exchanged between them, just small whimpers and tears. 

Derek whispers into Stiles' ear at one point, his voice hollow and scratchy with tears. "Let's just sleep for a while, okay, little fox?"

Stiles nods, forcing his eyes shut and fat, rolling tears from his eyes.

. . . . 

Stiles wakes alone in the bed, the room cold and detached feeling. He can hear someone in the next room- Derek. Stiles takes this time to look around, his mind clear and pure after resting for so long. The room is huge, gigantic and clear. The colors are dark, brown and red bricks that compose the walls. The bed is soft beneath him, and he turns to look out the giant glass windows. 

Stiles shakes himself, getting up from the bed and bypassing the couch to leave the room. Spiral stairs lead to the upstairs, and wooden beams litter the loft. He's greeted with Derek busying himself in the kitchen, a makeshift little room with a small stove and countertops. 

Derek turns when Stiles enters the room, and Stiles notes again that they're both still completely naked. "I- I'm kind of shit at making breakfast. Diner?" 

 _So we're ignoring last night._ Stiles nods, walking to wear a pile of clothes sits at the end of the countertop. 

. . . .

The drive to the diner is short and comfortable. Stiles doesn't even have to ask, Derek already picking up where they left off in the loft. 

"The loft- Peter was moving out of it and back into the house. He said I could have it- that we could- for as long as we needed it." 

Again, Stiles nods mutely, unknowing of what to say. It feels wrong though, a place so empty and hollow, nothing of the pack they once had. 

He swallows his fear, eating  it up inside so that he can say what needs to be said. "You- you can stay with me though, if you want." 

Stiles turns his head towards the window, looking out so he can't see the rejection on Derek's face. Derek grabs his hand though from where it was resting on his thigh, bringing it up in a mirror action of Stiles earlier- their hands resting on his chest. 

"I'd like that."

They get out of the car, coming back together to hold hands as they walk into the diner.

. . . 

"So I've been thinking-" Stiles breaks off, stuffing pancakes into his mouth "-maybe- maybe we could rebuild. It's kind of soon- and we need to have a funeral- but we could rebuild, ya know, put it back together." He swallows, that whole time spent talking with his mouth full. 

Derek freezes with his waffle half way to his mouth, staring up at Stiles in shock. He nods, once, resolutely. He looks determined when he clears his throat, still nodding as he agrees quietly. 

Stiles shakes his head, "good." 

. . . 

The next few weeks are spent tougher- Stiles still has school while Derek has seemingly dropped out. Stiles chooses not to comment, letting Derek deal in his own way. 

They spend every night together though, entangled in Stiles' bed, Derek to Stiles' back, holding onto each other as tightly as possible. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it took so long for an update, just going through some stuff. Hope you enjoy!

The funerals are short affairs, something so small that Stiles can't help but wonder how something could ever describe people so big. It's just him and Derek and the Sheriff.

Stiles can honestly say that the conversation with his father was a blur; he only had a faint recollection of his father going stone faced at the beginning and letting exactly three tears slip out towards the end. Derek had sat at the table with them, staring at Stiles as he choked his way through the explanation, the Sheriff staring at his hands on the table stoically. 

The funerals were in the forest and were very short. There was nothing distinct enough as a body to bury. 

Derek had screamed through clenched teeth when he discovered this.

But Stiles had done what Stiles does, walking into the remains of the hollow house and to where he knew they would have been. Where they would have been trying to get everyone out. He had held his breath for fear of breathing them in, tears streaming down his cheeks as he scooped up handfuls of ash, carrying them in his shirt as he walked into the forest. 

Derek had let out a snarl that ripped through the trees at the sight, but  his face had cleared in realization. Stiles had growled back, his own eyes flaring in frustration, before continuing his walk towards Derek in the clearing. 

"Dig six holes. I don't care how big or how small just dig. Then find some stones- the ones from the creek that are smooth and that shine. Now." Stiles' voice didn't sound like his own, hollow in its authority. But Derek obeyed without a word, simply nodding and settling down to dig with his hands. 

And Stiles stood there, watching as Derek's large, clawed hands dug through the dirt and the soil, ripping up the forest from it's floor. He forced his eyes upward, refusing to look into the resting place of the people he called family.

It was unfairly beautiful that day; sunlight streamed through the trees, lighting up the grass in the clearing they were occupying. Flowers littered the ground like trash may litter elsewhere; purple and blue, blurring together to create the place that would be the remembrance. The forest seemed to buzz with life around them; their own small circle untouched with life, while birds and bugs and beings breathed around them. 

The Sheriff had walked to Stiles, placing a hand gently on his shoulder. Stiles jerked out of his thoughts, looking down to the six neat holes in a row near the edge of the circular clearing. Stiles reached down into where he was holding up half his shirt filled with ash, scooping a handful and handing it to his father. They each had two handfuls of ash- could've been anything, the kitchen table, the chairs, even them. But all three stepped forward, gently pouring out the ash into the holes. 

The stones were placed in circles around each hole, flowers placed around those. Tears were shed but no words were spoken between the three of them, each person staring down at their work. Stiles had grabbed for Derek's hand at one point, Derek gripping back seemingly as hard as he could. 

The funerals were very short indeed. 

. . . 

The next day was a school day, Stiles shuffling through his life in practiced motions. this seemed to be the day that Scott had had enough. 

"Okay, what the fuck is going on. Are you okay dude? Please- just. You're acting like a robot. Did you have a secret breakup? Did you discover a third nipple? Did your di-" He stops, looking at Stiles expectantly. 

Stiles rolls his eyes, letting a smirk slip through even as he begins to glare. "No, my dick did not fall off. No, I didn't have a breakup. What do you mean discover, anyway, I've always had three nipples." Stiles smiles at Scott, giving him his old shit eating grin. But he sobers quickly, adding on, "you wouldn't believe me if I told you anyway."

The playful smirk that had been on Scott's face melted away at Stiles' last words. He frowned hard, suddenly looking like he was thinking very hard. Stiles didn't want him to hurt himself. 

And for the first time in a while, Stiles suddenly thinks about telling Scott all of it- there had been times, when he was much younger, when he wanted to tell Scott everything. Wanted to tell his friend about the wonderful world he couldn't believe he got to be a part of. 

Scott knows that Stiles was friends with the Hales- had actually been friends with Cora herself. But Scott had Kira, had never wondered why Stiles was always there, never questioned it. Suddenly Stiles is hit with a thought- maybe Scott had questioned it, but had simply never asked for Stiles' sake. 

And that's what does it. That's what Stiles tells himself does it as he reaches towards his second best friend in the entire world in a shitty high school cafeteria. Scott looks up, still frowning hard at Stiles' face now. 

"Don't freak out." 

Stiles rolls his eyes into the orange glow of his inner fox, letting it show on his face and hands- claws grow from his hands, and he feels small fangs grow in his mouth. Scott's jaw drops, his crooked jaw- Stiles smirks. 

Scott stumbles through his words, his voice awed and confused, "Stiles- what. What even. This- this is the coolest fucking shit. What even." 

Stiles smiles, his faith in his friend growing and swelling in his chest. For the first time since his pack burned- he smiles, feeling it stretch and grow on his face. 

And it goes from there- Stiles shifts back, not wanting anyone to see, but had told Scott everything. Everything- the pack, the fire, Derek. He told his friend of his love for his first friend- Scott had smiled at him, nodding eagerly to encourage him along. 

Stiles felt like a weight had been ripped off his chest. 

. . . 

"So I told him everything- I mean, I hope that's okay with you guys. Scott- Scott isn't going to tell anyone- okay except maybe Kira- but no one else, I swear." Stiles is absentmindedly speaking with his mouth full, more focused on his potatoes than how his father or Derek will react. 

When he looks up though, disturbed by the silence, he's met with one gaping face and his father eating with an exasperated face. So essentially, what he expected. 

"Derek, don't even, okay. It's fine, Scott's cool, and this means that I can bring everyone to help." Stiles shrugs as he speaks. 

Derek though, Derek just scowls harder, his eyebrows doing the furrow furrow. "Help with what?"

Stiles slowly lowers his fork full of food to the plate, this time actually swallowing before speaking. "We're going to rebuild tomorrow. The house, that is. And so far I've got Scott, Isaac, Boyd, and Kira coming to help. None of the rest of them know about the pack, they just know that we need help to rebuild a burned down house- please Derek."

Derek nods slowly, seemingly checking himself out. They all continue eating, this time in silence.

. . . 

It isn't until later, much after dinner in Stiles' room, that Derek brings it up again. "I want to rebuild- I mean, it was my home of course I do- but. I just- It'll really mean they're gone, ya know?"

Stiles froze from where he had been putting on a new shirt for bed. He lowered his arms, walking over to sit where Derek was wallowing on the bed. He feels his own heart tick up a few beats, the panic that he refuses to let out brimming at the surface of his chest.

He opens his mouth a few times, wanting to say something, anything, to make this better. He can't though- there's nothing. But Derek nods, looking at Stiles' face, and reaches over, entwining their hands. 

For now it's enough, them holding each other. They end up laying back and sleeping like that, as if this night were different from all the other nights they spent wound up in each other. 

. . . 

The next morning is unfairly bright, Stiles forcing himself and a groaning Derek up and out of the room. The morning is a blur of toast and yawns at the table, Stiles regretting agreeing to meet Scott early. But it's when they're in the car that it actually settles in that they're awake and this is happening. 

"So we're going to meet everyone at the house. Dad already had a whole bunch of wood and nails and all the manly stuff we need to build delivered to the house. Uh, I hope that's okay." 

Derek just nods, having been silent the whole morning. But Stiles can feel that this isn't the brooding, I hate you, silence, but rather the I have no fucking idea what to say silence. 

He accepts it. 

. . . 

Clearing the house was a nightmare- one that Stiles had been apart of for about two point five seconds before giving Scott the look and leaving to stand by the car with Derek. Who hadn't even gone inside. 

It was too much to walk in and see everything burned- nothing but ashes and frames at this point. Stiles felt like there was something poetic there, but he chose not to look into it. Not to feel any of it. Derek had apparently done the same, not even walking in, simply waiting by the cars, aggressively putting on safety glasses and gloves. 

Stiles could sense a Derek-the-builder kink developing, and chose to stomp on the flutter in his gut at the sight of Derek in a tight tank top and gloves with a hammer in his hand. _So not the time._

It took everyone an hour to clear away the ash and debris. Nobody had asked any questions- Stiles had a feeling that Scott had something to do with that.

The hour was spent with Derek staring blankly at the hollow place where his home used to be. Stiles felt an ache building in him, one that felt larger than all the others before it. Helplessness began to settle in and he fitfully began to crush his thoughts, focusing on channeling his fox into coming up with a strategy to fixing this mess. 

It didn't take long- as soon as Scott and the rest of the group were finished clearing away the rubble and throwing what was essentially the ashes of Derek's and Stiles' life into a giant dumpster- they started. 

To be completely honest, nobody had any idea how to properly build a house. They basically added on wood where the wood used to be and brick where the bricks used to be. The outer walls didn't take long at all, all of them basically following the pattern left behind in ash. They all exchanged jokes and friendly teases, and for the first time since the fire Stiles could feel himself feeling like he had a family again. 

Derek had remained quiet though, although a small smile had peered through on his face when Scott had accidentally walked into a wall while trying to watch Kira working on a wall. 

It's the small things. 

Eventually the walls were built- It took about all day, but Kira had started on some of the inner rooms- woking with Derek to get everything exactly right. 

Stiles chooses to believe that Derek made a few friends during this. 

The day ends with the outer walls built and two of the six rooms done. Stiles thanks everyone profusely, buying them all pizza for dinner. Everyone agreed to come back tomorrow, Kira offering to bring paint for the inside walls. Derek gave her the exact color of each wall and the exact location of the colors inside Home Depot.

Stiles only felt a little fond to realize he was in love with a nerd- by a little, a lot. 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's obvious that I have no idea how houses are built, right? Sorry. One more chapter to go!


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